Surrender
by speechless97
Summary: There was no way out, not that he wanted one now. He'd failed her.  Sequel to 'Monster'


**[My reviewers all encouraged me to do a sequel to 'Monster', so here's my best shot. Also, it would help to read that first, but this can be read alone.]**

"_When we have lost everything, including hope, life becomes a disgrace, and death a duty." _- W.C. Fields

It was so dark. The only thing he saw, for what felt like days, was complete and utter blackness. He'd tried to keep walking at first, hands out in front of him, but soon enough he was done. He wished he could go back. Go back to her. Maybe even back in time. But at this point, he didn't even know which way was back. He had to face reality; this was just another method to wear him out, to torture him. He wasn't going to get to see the bastard who'd been doing this to them. It was all just a game. A sick, stupid game. And Derek knew he couldn't win. There was no one for him to fight against, no doors to kick down. He couldn't protect her, and he wouldn't hurt her. At that moment he felt useless. He'd promised himself he'd get her out alive. The rage started to form, in the pit of his stomach, rising up his body. So he let it out. Took out every ounce of anger and fear out on the concrete wall, punched it until he couldn't even remember his own name.

When the lights came on, he thought he was dead. When he caught a glimpse of Emily's face, he was convinced. He was in heaven.

Then came the pain. It was subtle at first, just little spurts of it on his ribs. It only intensified when he didn't move, but he didn't care.

This couldn't be heaven, he thought. Maybe it was hell?

"Get up!", came a growl that snapped him back into reality. Everything looked so bright, it hurt.

He wondered when he'd passed out. Wait, he'd seen Emily right? He searched for her face. There it was, on the screen. She wasn't moving, just sitting against a wall, tear tracks down her face.

"Now, agent Morgan decided to play hero, didn't you? Well, now you're gonna watch."

Watch? Oh, oh oh god. Watch; the screen; Emily!

"NO- don't you-", he tried to protest as he stumbled up, his words coming out in soft gasps. The bastard had broken a rib.

There was no way he was going to win now. He had never even had a chance. The UnSub was going to kill her and make him watch, and then kill him. Dispose of their bodies and move on to the next city. And no one would ever know. Then their faces would show up in the files, their bodies on crime scene photos. But it would be too late.

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Every shot to her was like a punch in the gut. She hadn't made a sound, hadn't uttered a single word. But he knew. It was his fault, his stupid mistake for leaving her there alone. For being a coward. With every hit, his heart ached and he willed her to get back up. He prayed, that day more than in the last 20 years. He prayed for her, for her to be alright. Then the monster finally left her, bruised and bleeding on the floor, like some rag doll, just thrown away. He heard the footsteps. They seemed to echo everywhere, so he had no idea, no clue where they were coming from.

"See, you gotta follow directions, Agent. Now she's dead.", the last word was spit out like venom, like fire.

And he swore his heart shattered into a million pieces at those words. He felt a sob rise up from his chest, but he just sat there, limp, waiting for death to come.

There was no way out, not that he wanted one now.

He couldn't live with himself knowing he'd let her die. He promised her, he promised himself he'd get her out. And he didn't.

Another sob shook his body then. She was gone. He was never going to see her smile, or roll her eyes, or tell him how much of a player he was. Emily Prentiss was dead, because he'd failed to protect her. He'd failed.

What was the bastard waiting for? Derek wasn't going to fight now. He'd surrendered. It would be so easy to kill him. Why didn't he just do it?

Death might not be so bad, he thought. All the pain he'd seen, all he'd suffered, it was time.

So he just held still and closed his eyes as the hard metal barrel of the gun pressed into his temple. It would be painless, he convinced himself. And then he would get to see her again.

"Goodbye, Agent Morgan. You failed.", the words came in a hushed whisper, inches away from his ear. But he just put his head down in defeat, and he waited.

The deadening click of the safety being turned off hit him like a storm. But he heard something too. He tried to zero in on the noise, anything but his own shallow breathing.

And then he realized what the sound was. That wonderful sound. It was a whimper. A small, defeated cry, coming from the seemingly dead woman on the screen. It sounded so weak, so frail, that it was barely there at all.

But it was a glimmer of hope in an otherwise pitch-black sea of despair.

Not much, but enough. Enough hope to give him the strength to kick the UnSub's gun out of his hands, and retrieve it before it hit the wall on the other side. It was enough hope to shoot the son of a bitch in the face. It was hope enough to will him to live, to push through the pain and carry on.

For Emily.

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